


Pigs Head on a Stick

by Ambivalence_Forevermore



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: AU:Simon Lived, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Ralf/Simon if you squint, and tilt your head, shippy if you want it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambivalence_Forevermore/pseuds/Ambivalence_Forevermore
Summary: Simon never goes down to the beach to warn Jack and the others that the beast isn't real and instead suffers a panic attack after his conversation with the Beezlebub (The Lord of the Flies).Ralf, who never went to Jack's party out of pride and instead sent Piggy as a spy, gets lost in the woods trying to find fruit and encounters none other than batty Simon midway through one of his 'fits'.AU: Simon lives, and Ralf is a better person than is cannon \.





	Pigs Head on a Stick

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Just something that I wrote within the past hour while half asleep, so sorry in advance for typos. Let me know what you think!

      The forest was quiet as Ralf made his way through the dense undergrowth and ducked around the creepers that seemed to hang from every available branch. His pride had kept him well away from Jack’s party and he had chosen instead to send Piggy to scope the place out. He had been on his way to get fruit but now found that he was horribly lost in the strange shadows of the forest. He didn’t recognize where he was in the dark, and could barely make out anything in front of him through the dim light of the crescent moon above him.

      It was then that he heard the crying.

      Muffled whimpers of fear and pain drifted towards him from a little further ahead, and Ralf froze where he was standing, unsure of what to do. To the best of his knowledge, everyone was at Jack’s ‘party’ except for himself. Ralf felt a fear flare up within him as thoughts of the elusive ‘beast’ rose up in his mind. He tried to shake it away but found he could not. He carefully tightened his grip on the spear in his hands and walked quietly towards the sound. Perhaps if he could kill the beast he would be able to win back the favor of the other boys and take control back from Jack. Set things back to the way they were meant to be and not this strange, savage system that Jack had created.

      The whimpering grew louder the closer he got and felt sweat build on his forehead as he approached the clearing that he knew the beast must be waiting in. It must be impersonating a human voice to lure people over, but it wouldn’t work on him, Ralf told himself. He was ready and wasn’t gonna let any beast do him in.

      Far sooner than he would have liked, Ralf found himself standing right at the edge of the small clearing and almost gagged as he took in the sight before him. A large, rotting pig’s head sat swollen on a stick in the center of the clearing. Ralf could see the white of it’s bones and a swarm of black crawling over it’s decaying skin. Flies. Ralf tore his eyes away from the horrid display that he had no doubt was placed there by Jack and his little cult and glanced around the clearing for the beast. His eyes rested on a small shadowy lump facing the rotting head that was heaving in time with the stuttered sobs. It was the kind of heaving that looked painful but was necessary to keep the anguish and suffering in. The kind one learns at night when they’re trying not to wake anyone but can’t keep it in anymore.

      It was no beast, Ralf realized. It was Simon. Ralf carefully lowered his spear so it seemed more like a walking stick and less like a weapon before slowly approaching the other boy who had yet to notice his presence. He slowly sat down beside him and, not knowing what else to do, resting a gentle hand on Simon’s shoulder.

      It was the wrong decision.

      Simon immediately tensed and began sobbing harder, his libs windmilling around him in an attempt to get away from Ralf. His eyes, once so bright, were wild with fear and his hair fell in knots over his face which was streaked with mud and tears. His nose was bleeding sluggishly and the Crimson was already drying on his cheeks and matting his hair.

      “Simon, Simon!” Ralf hissed. “Simon it’s me!”

      “Please make him go away... go away!” Simon was sobbing, having seemingly not heard Ralf.

      “Who, who?” Ralf was asking as he carefully approached Simon again. The smaller of the two boys was now crouched on the opposite side of the clearing, his head between his knees as he rocked back and forth. Ralf stayed crouched down as well as he shuffled across the clearing and lowered himself so that he was sitting on his heels and shins once he was right in front of Simon.

      “Simon, who do you want to go away?” he asked softly. There was no one in the clearing except for Simon and himself.

      “The Beelzebub… he’s here… he’s everywhere… in all of us,” Simon forced out between sobs.

      “Deadman on a cliff, he’s there too. Jack, he’s taken Jack. Kill the Beast, slit his throat, spill his blood…" Simon trailed off into another fit of sobs and Ralf stared at him in a mix of fear and wonder.

      “Simon, I need you to listen to me,” Ralf said, tentatively putting a hand on Simon’s shoulder. Simon tensed again but Ralf knew it was coming this time.

      “Simon, it’s me, Ralf. You trust me, don’t you? Do you remember when we went exploring? I'm Ralf. I’m that Ralf,” he added the last part on as an afterthought, but it seemed to be the right thing to say. Simon remained tense but didn’t fight Ralf as he moved his hand up to cup Simon’s cheek and added is another hand on the other side so that he was holding his face gently.

      Slowly, Simon raised his eyes and looked at Ralf wearily. His hair was hanging around his face in thick, black, waves that curled lightly from the lack of soap to clean them with. The tears had smeared trails through the grime and blood that created a mask of sorts so that his face was lined with strange striped patterns on his cheeks until the pads of Ralf’s thumbs came up and wiped them away.

      “Simon, I’m gonna level with you here and tell you that I have no idea what is happening right now.” Simon lowered his eyes in shame and squeezed them shut. Nobody knew what was wrong with him. The fainting, the hallucinations, they didn’t add up. He had not bothered to tell the doctors about the occasional voices when those had started up. They didn’t tell him to hurt people or himself. They just seemed to whisper whatever was on his mind. Whatever he didn't want to have to think about. It was why his parents had sent him away to school. They had hoped he’d ‘get over it’ as they said. He hadn’t though. Just gotten better at hiding it. He had hoped that Ralf wouldn’t find out. It had been so nice to explore with him and Jack and be part of the elite team that got to see the whole mountain. Ralf had been so nice to him, even when Jack had stopped. Now though, it was all crashing down. Simon tried to force his thoughts into some form of order but found that they were moving to fast for him to organize. Some of them seemed to be in a different language almost.

      “I don't’ know what’s going on with you, but I wanna help,” Ralf said. Simon’s eyes snapped open. Wait, what? He slowly raised his eyes to meet Ralf’s and was suddenly acutely aware of everything, He could feel the contrast of the cold breeze and the warmth of Ralf’s hands on his face. He could see each and every shadow dancing in the clearing around them, and feel the warmth radiating from Ralf like a furnace. He could feel the trembling in his body that he couldn’t seem to reign in and smell the scent of rotting meat from where Jack’s gift to himself sat watching them from the middle of the clearing.

      It was the thought of those empty eye sockets watching him that made a spike of fear so great through him that he barely noticed the high keening sound that came out of the back of his throat, or when he buried his tear and blood-stained face in Ralf’s neck and let himself cry. He let everything he had just seen come crashing out of him as he fell apart in the arms of the only person who he could really call a friend.

      Ralf wasn’t quite sure what to do when Simon suddenly fell forward into him, sobs ripping there way out of his throat and getting caught in the junction between Ralf’s shoulder and neck. He let the sounds of Simon’s anguish wash over him and wrapped his arms protectively around the other boys trembling form.

      “I’m here, I’ve got you,” he whispered into Simon’s hair. Simon took a stuttering breath and seemed to look up before jerking his head back down and hiding it in Ralf’s shoulder. The trembling began to get worse and Ralf held on tighter. He felt Simons grip around his middle tighten and the other boy's fingers dig into his back as he cried and Ralf felt a wave of protectiveness rush through him. He somehow felt like the fear radiating off of Simon was his fault, and one glance at the mangled pig head made him realize that he probably did shoulder part of the blame.

      “T-th-the he-ead,” Simon whispered brokenly. “I c-can’t, please, I can’t-t” he was stuttering, his breath quickening in fear. Ralf looked back at the grotesque sacrifice and shuddered. He had a feeling whatever ‘Beelzebub’ Simon had been referring to had something to do with the monstrosity in the center of the clearing. Ralf thought for a second and realized that Simon was going nowhere on his own.

      “I need you to hold on, okay?” Ralf said, wrapping the terrified boy’s arms around his neck. He felt Simon nod and stood up, feeling the arms around his neck tighten as he adjusted his grip on Simon and carried him quickly out of the clearing. They hurried through the dark forest and gave Jack’s side of the beach a large girth as they returned to the empty shelters. Ralf could smell pig meet cooking but found that he had quite lost his appetite after seeing the hideous display of rotting flesh in the forest. And even if he was hungry, he had no plans of leaving Simon to his suffering.

      “Here, can you lie down?” Ralf asked, laying Simon on one of the mats. Simon reluctantly removed his hands from around Ralf’s neck and curled in on himself. He rocked back and forth slightly as he had found himself doing more often and watched as Ralf sat down beside him and wrapped the tattered remains of a choir cloak around his shoulders. The material was soft and warm, and Simon snuggled into it.

      “The beast, it’s not a beast… it’s Jack and Roger and Maurice, and the littluns and the twins and me,” Simon was whispering.

      “What?” Ralf asked in confusion.

      “The beast. It isn’t an animal. It’s all of us. The head told me,” Simon explained, voice breaking as the images of the head flashed before him. It had been endless. The darkness within the great mouth. Voices had echoed louder than he’d ever heard them before and shadows chased each other and ripped each other apart. He saw Ralf and Jack fighting with spears and Roger ripping a pig to shreds with his bare hands, He saw Piggy laying dead in the sand, and SamnEric crying out in pain as they were surrounded by savages and poked and prodded with spears. Then he’d seen himself as he was beaten and bitten by human beasts, their leader wearing the head of the Beelzebub and watching emotionlessly as Simon's blood stained the sand and the life left his body. Then he’d felt hands on him again and he’d fled, but they followed. A voice too, but it sounded soft and gentle. The hands were as well. Then suddenly Simon was looking at Ralf. Kind Ralf, not the savage from the circle. The nice one.  
Simon looked up at Ralf who was looking rather frightened. It was at that point that Simon realized that he was speaking out loud. His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said, but Ralf didn’t run or push him down and beat him. He just gently laid a hand on Simon’s shoulder and pulled him into another embrace.

      “Are you going to leave?” Simon asked.

      “No. Even if none of the others come back, and it’ only the two of us here,” Ralf said. Simon could hear a wild screaming coming from Jack's side of the beach and the patter of rain on the roof and snuggled further into the embrace. He shuddered at the thought of what could come from dances like those and felt a hand gently stroking his hair. He found that he believed Ralf.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


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